In a Crowd of Thousands
by Casa Circe
Summary: "The parade traveled on. With the sun in my eyes, you were gone. But I knew even then, in a crowd of thousands, I'd find you again..."
1. Folken

_**In a Crowd of Thousands**_

_NOTE: This is for Yearly Esca's Pic'n'Fic, with the prompt "Memories," for my partner QuietDuna. This is a Folken and Eries fic (of course) greatly inspired by "In a Crowd of Thousands" from Anastasia the musical so I lifted the title from there because I couldn't think of anything better. I've had the idea for this fic since I got obsessed with the song last year and I couldn't help but see it in a FolkenxEries context and it fit with the prompt so this was a perfect opportunity to finally write this._

_Posting Folken's POV today (Independence Day!) and will be posting Eries' POV before the 15__th__._

_Enjoy!_

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"I've been here before," Folken mused, as he moved through the crowd, discreetly attired and practically indistinguishable from the thousands of spectators who had gathered to watch the parade.

And this was more than the geographical location. He had been to Cesario on several occasions over the years and had watched other parades, but none had evoked the same ineffable sense of recognition.

Folken had been living discreetly in Fanelia, having been reconciled with his brother, and he had been actively trying to atone for his time in Zaibach. The trip to Cesario had been one such attempt, a simple visit to establish reparations with the country for the damages of war. It had been more or less successful, but he was still too careful about being recognized in public. He had been about to return home when something had made him linger a while longer.

Standing there at that moment had elicited a small, distinct memory that had long been buried under years of more eventful times. He had not thought about this day for so long and he wondered why the memory had surfaced now.

It had been a hot, summer day as well, and he had been twelve, still the crown prince, but still only a boy eager to go home after an official visit to Cesario. But something had gone amuck with his ship and his return journey had been delayed for a few hours. Rather than return to the hospitality of the old duke, the young Folken had defied Balgus and had lost himself in the crowd that had gathered to welcome their latest royal guests.

He had not wanted to be recognized, to be subject to that reverence that had rendered those of his status unapproachable. He had had enough of that for the last few days and he was simply curious to see the new celebration. He asked around him and learned who would be honored in that grand parade.

The entire Asturian royal family was making a rare public appearance, to the delight of all who had come to witness them. A lavish, open carriage, bore King Grava and Queen Therese along with their three daughters, as they paid their first royal visit to the kingdom of Cezario. The king bore himself with the expected dignity though one sensed his discomfort with the summer heat. Beside him sat the queen, who nodded regally at the people around her, while cradling her youngest daughter in her lap. Beside her sat Princess Marlene, radiant with youth and beauty, awing all those who saw her, and beside her was her younger sister, Princess Eries, who sat straight and tall, a perfectly proper, neutral expression on her face. The crowd cheered them all as the carriage made its way through the city, flanked by guards.

Being unusually tall for his age, Folken had not needed to crane his neck too much to get a good look at the Astons. He had been introduced to them all once before, during another royal visit, and had even managed to have a short conversation with the second princess, primarily about their shared love for books. It had only been for a few minutes but it had been a rare, unscheduled, and unstructured event for both so it stood out as one of the highlights of an otherwise routine, royal duty.

So, it was her he sought, even as most of the crowd seemed focused on other members of her family, remarking on the grave expression on the king's face, the gentle poise of the queen, and the shining beauty of the eldest princess. But the Fanelian prince had eyes only for the second princess, for the friend he believed he had made in her despite their brief interaction.

She sat straight, as a queen. Only eight but so proud and serene, he observed. Not that there was anything particularly unqueenly about her older sister. But it was clear to him that she had the regal bearing of one who could rule with firmness and justice.

And it frustrated him that no one else seemed to notice. The crowds had cheered for the whole family, crying things such as "Long live the Astons!" or "A blessing on Asturia!" And many had shouted "Princess Marlene" and even the young Princess Millerna had been mentioned by name. But no one had cheered the second princess. If she had noticed this, she did not show it, but it irked the prince nonetheless.

Seeking to rectify this injustice, Folken had tried to cheer "Princess Eries" but his voice had been drowned out by the rest of the crowd. He grew even more determined for her to know she was noticed. For a moment, he considered doing this the official way, by returning to the palace to greet the royal family properly or even approaching the guards and introducing himself so as to gain an audience with the Astons. But that would take too long and would require too much explanation, and he really only wanted to catch Eries' attention, if only for a moment.

So, he had started to run, still calling out her name, hoping that the wind would carry his voice over the noise of the parade. But she continued to look straight ahead, and he knew he would have to try something drastic if he wanted to achieve his goal. Frantically, he had looked around and spotted a large, ancient tree by the side of the road where the parade would soon be passing. And at that moment, a rather ridiculous idea had seized him.

"Balgus would be furious if he found out," he had thought with some amusement, "And Mother must never find out."

But he would go through with it anyway.

That same, crazy idea seized him again, fifteen years later, as he stood watching yet another parade welcoming the Astons to Cesario, with the crowd cheering only for one of the two princesses. Once again, he would not let this go unrectified.


	2. Eries

_**In a Crowd of Thousands**_

_NOTE: Here's the second and final chapter of my Yearly Esca entry, more from Eries's point of view and with the main action of the song. Something light and breezy, for a change._

_It's been a while since I've written something so blatantly romantic for this pairing and I had a lot of fun doing this. I hope you don't find it too cheesy. And now, I'm excited about what lovely art Duna will create for this piece. _

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"Something's different about this one," Eries thought suddenly and she wondered why such a notion had presented itself.

The princess had been in countless parades, of course, and many of them in Cesario. This one was to celebrate the second anniversary of the end of the war, and it was only the two princesses who were visiting, as their father was still too ill to travel. Citizens from far and wide had still gathered to welcome them, despite the heat of the summer day.

And just like it had always been, the crowd cheered wildly the younger princess, who was poised to be the future queen. Millerna was deserving of all their adulation and her sister gazed at her proudly as they rode their carriage through the city, surrounded by jubilant spectators. There was much to be celebrated, after all, and two years of hard-won peace was quite an achievement.

The sky was clear, and it was unseasonably hot but both princesses bore their discomfort with dignity. Millerna was all warmth and smiles as she waved at the people around her while Eries maintained her regal demeanor, her expression not quite severe, but with the aloofness one came to expect from those of her position. Many still found her intimidating and were wary of showing any sign of impropriety in her presence.

But only those who knew her well would detect a hint of pensiveness about her on this morning. She was remembering another parade many years ago when something quite extraordinary had taken place.

She had been eight years old and it had been a hot summer day much like this one. The whole family had made an appearance and the parade seemed to pass at an interminably slow pace. Even at such a young age she had already been aware of duty and so made sure to show no signs of boredom or discomfort, though she felt both quite keenly.

There had been a monotony to the proceedings even if the spectators were all very diverse and enthusiastic. They had smiled, waved and had thrown flowers towards the carriage, their petals blowing in the light breeze. Seeing their admiration for her family, the young princess had felt an even greater duty to set an example of dignity and grace. She must not be seen as frivolous.

But for all the crowd's energy and attention, Eries could not help but feel alone. After all, it was the house of Aston they were all cheering, not its individual members. They may have been looking at her, but they only saw what she represented and not who she truly was. This would be a role she would play to perfection, the image of a princess, but one that she would nevertheless struggle with through the years. And it had been during this parade that she had realized the weight of this responsibility, the need to keep up appearances in any circumstances.

Her reverie had been interrupted by a familiar sound, her name being called. She had looked around her, puzzled, searching for the voice that she vaguely seemed to recognize. But how could one have made anyone out in that throng? Her brow was knotted in concentration.

It was then that she had noticed the tree, with its gnarled bark and large branches, standing like an ancient guardian of the road. Then, the princess had noticed something other than flower petals blowing in the wind. Carefully, she had stretched out her hand and, to her surprise, found herself holding a large white feather.

"Princess Eries!" the voiced had called out again.

The princess had looked up and found herself staring at the breathless eldest prince of Fanelia, standing on one of the branches of the ancient tree. He had not been wearing his shirt for some reason, but the leaves of the tree had thankfully obscured this fact.

Princess Eries had quirked an eyebrow at the young royal whom she had met previously and with whom she had shared an interest in books and history. She had had no idea that he was in Cesario and she wondered why he had decided to announce his presence in such an unusual manner. She also noticed that the tree had no low-hanging branches and she wondered how he had managed to climb to such an impressive height.

He had waved at her, slightly embarrassed, surely aware of his state of undress, although no one else in the crowd seemed to have noticed him nor the princess turning her gaze towards the tree. A warm, genuine smile had spread on the princess's face, despite herself.

Folken had stared at her, a slight blush on his own face, before recovering himself enough to make a small bow towards her. And when he had looked up again, the sun was in his eyes and the parade had passed.

Eries had been too shy to turn around so she had continued to look straight ahead, but in her hand she had held on to the white feather, somehow knowing that it had come from the prince.

Eries found herself scanning the crowd, searching for that familiar face. But she berated herself for being so sentimental and she wondered at her own disappointment at not finding him.

"He isn't here," she told herself, "Why would he be?"

And what did it matter? What was the significance of a moment shared between children a lifetime ago?

They had not met again until a few years later, and neither of them ever mentioned this moment. Much had happened in those few years, more duties and responsibilities to fulfill. There had been no time to reminisce on a moment of childish whimsy. And then, the succession ritual took place, then Zaibach and the war, and so much change. The memory of that parade seemed to have been buried deep beneath so many events, only to resurface now for some reason.

Anyway, it was a good memory, and one she found that she cherished in spite of everything that had come after. After Folken sought asylum in Asturia, he had sought reconciliation with all those his actions had affected and she had found his company welcome. They were on good terms these days though his own duties in Fanelia had kept him from visiting Asturia. As such, they had not seen each other in quite some time.

Perhaps that was why she remembered his little escapade all of a sudden, although she would never ever admit to herself that she missed him. She knew enough of his heritage to understand the significance of the white feather she had held as a child and she realized that he had risked exposing himself to fly to the high branches of the tree, only to greet her.

"You were always a mystery," she thought.

As she looked forward, the tree came into view and she marveled at the sight of it, standing straight and tall after all these years. As she admired its resilience, a light breeze blew through the parade.

Eries's eyes widened as she reached out her hand to catch a white feather. She stared at it in wonder and knew where to turn her gaze when she looked up.

Sure enough, there he was, standing on the highest branch, his mechanical arm holding the tree trunk for support, his bare chest heaving from some recent exertion. Awkwardly, he raised his real hand to wave.

And once again, Eries smiled, her joy and wonder lighting up her face and for a moment bringing back the innocence of a child, wise beyond her years.

Folken stared at her, flabbergasted, and felt his heart expand in his chest. This was more than he had ever hoped for, and more than he deserved. He barely managed to bow before the carriage was out of view. And once again, when he looked up, the sun was in his eyes and the parade had passed. But this time, the princess was looking back at him, still smiling.

He held her gaze as long as he could before the carriage was too far away. He leaned back on the tree with a sigh, surprised at his own caprice, but not regretting a single moment. He would delay his return to Fanelia so that he could present himself properly to the Asturian princesses. Circumstances had prevented him from seizing the opportunity for happiness fifteen years ago. He was not about to waste this second chance.

As the parade progressed, Millerna sensed a change in her sister. Eries maintained her composure but there was a subtle air of wistfulness about her that piqued her sister's curiosity.

"You seem quite cheerful all of a sudden, sister," Millerna observed slyly, "What's come over you?"

"I was just struck by how fortunate we are to be alive and well in this time of peace," Eries replied, "It gives one a certain hope for the future."

Millerna quirked an eyebrow at this cryptic response. She was certain that there was much more to the sudden improvement of her sister's mood, but she knew better than to prod her sister for details. Those would come in due time.

"You're absolutely right, sister," Millerna replied simply, "Now is the time for new beginnings."


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